I'd Rather Not Have Pity
by Tigerdust
Summary: The actual plot involving a stolen Japanese statue is worked around Doyle's need to not admit how he feels about Angel. Lots of slash. Done for ttm prompt jizo. Angel/Doyle.


"So, you're telling us that its stolen."

Kate crossed her arms as she stood just inside the door frame of Angel Investigations. Cordelia was obviously not pleased with having another female in her domain. One was enough for any vampire investigative service.

"Look," Kate replied to Cordelia, "I'm just looking for help. It seemed like Angel's thing."

Cordy cocked her head. "Yeah, and what thing might that be?"

Kate shook her head. "If you intend on wasting anymore of my time, I'm just not gonna come back. Just give Angel the file."

Cordelia flipped open the manila file that Kate had laid on her desk. "What do we have to go on?"

Kate was beginning to get exasperated. "That's confidential. For Angel's eyes only."

Cordy snorted a little at the thought of something being that confidential. "Angel trusts me. And you're gonna have to if you think we're gonna be your little supernatural consulting firm. By the way, how much are you paying us for the work?"

"Angel is taking these on pro-bono. Seems like I'm not the one out of the loop." With that last biting remark, Kate turned to leave.

Cordy just rolled her eyes, sticking her hand up to her forehead in mock salute. "Buh-bye then." She then took a moment to finish reading the file. "Guess I'd better get this to Angel. And maybe have a little talk with him about finances again and why the words pro and bono should not be in our vocabulary."

However, it would have been worth Cordelia's time to wait five more minutes. What she was unaware of was that both Angel and Doyle were just getting up. Well, actually, Doyle was just getting up. Angel had been up for nearly half an hour, had drunk his morning blood, and was currently doing tai chi. Doyle thought that the sight of Angel flexing slowly around him maybe wasn't such a bad thing to wake up to.

"Christ, Angel, how long have you been awake?"

"I'm concentrating," Angel answered in a slow timbre as he parted the wild horse's mane into a half moon stance, "and half an hour."

Doyle groaned, putting one arm over his eyes. "Its unnatural. Vampires aren't supposed to be morning people."

"Its not morning."

"You know what I mean. I mean, normal people are cranky right after they get up."

Angel shrugged without missing a beat. "Thats what the tai chi is for. Helps me focus, stay calm, and lets me collect my thoughts for the day."

"Okay, you'd better both be decent or I am gonna throw up my breakfast!" As she descended, Angel noticed the manila folder covering her eyes.

"I don't know about decent, but we're dressed if thats what you're asking," Doyle countered as he finished buttoning up his shirt. His lower half was bare, but covered with a warm blanket so he had no inclination to get up.

"Good." Cordelia marched out of the elevator and handed Angel the folder. "And since when are we working pro bono for the police? I've read the Dresden Files. They can pay us."

"Harry Dresden is nothing but poofery and chicanery," Doyle grumbled and was stared at by both parties in the room. "What? I'm not allowed to know large words?"

Angel headed back to his bedroom with the file so that he could read and pull a shirt over his head, even though he was wearing a black tank top. "So, I'm guessing Kate delivered this?"

"She did. And might I say something freely?"

Doyle watched Cordelia as she walked around the room, obviously cagey about Kate. "That's never stopped you before."

Cordelia stopped pacing to glare at Doyle. "I don't like her. And if you're not careful, mister, I can add you to that list."

Doyle put his hands up in a defensive position as Angel re-entered the room. "Not a lot of information in the file. What am I looking at? A heist?"

Cordelia shrugged as Doyle grabbed for the file from Angel's hand, Angel's gaze momentarily caught by Doyle reaching for it. "I guess so. I mean, there were no fingerprints or anything, but Ms. Police Sargent seemed to think we could find a lead or solve it or something. Did I mention the pro bono thing?"

"You did," Angel replied without missing a beat, "I guess I'll have to check out the museum tonight, see where it was taken from."

Doyle cleared his throat softly. Angel noticed the clearing while Cordelia didn't think anything of it. "Know what we're looking for?"

Doyle scratched his chin with his free hand. "I can place it. I know its Japanese, but...I think, yeah, I'll see if...hmm...where have I seen this before?"

"Well, you win the award for Mr. Helpful," Cordelia chipped in as she headed back towards the elevator.

"I'll think of it," Doyle stated in defense of himself and added after she was gone, "now I understand what the whole tai chi thing is all about."

One thing that Doyle was learning more and more about Angel, especially since he was crashing on the man's couch while the burst pipe in his decrepit apartment building was being fixed, was that he was a creature of habit. Doyle could set his watch to the amount of times he would wake up and find that Angel had already had blood and was doing tai chi. Fifteen minutes, thirty minutes, forty five. It didn't matter. His morning attitude made Doyle look like a wuss.

Another thing he was learning was that Angel was more of a prude than he imagined. Even in the solace of his own home, he never walked around nude. Doyle didn't feel like his presence encouraged Angel to be more clothed, it was more as though Angel were afraid of himself. And while he had reasons for vigilance, outright fear was something that Doyle found unsettling. How was he to trust Angel if Angel wouldn't completely trust himself?

Questions he had tried to avoid such as the one above became harder and harder as the days turned into weeks and his pipe was fixed but Angel neither had an inclination to kick him out, as though he were a fixture now, nor did Doyle really want to leave. Truth be told, Doyle would have rather slept in the bed...but not in that way, though.

Okay, yes. In that way. Although Doyle was ready to admit to himself that Angel's prudish nature was even more endearing to him than the struggle for redemption. Which, judging by how much he bottled up, Doyle was starting to bet against in some ways. That much repression, even for a soul in repair, was not good.

"Morning Angel." Doyle stretched out a spot on his shoulder blades that tensed up, causing him to bite down momentarily on his lower lip.

"Morning," Angel said without missing a beat.

"You made me coffee," Doyle stated, still with a hint of surprise, although Angel had been doing it ever since the morning they'd gotten back, having barely escaped the Jizo cultists. Angel and prudishness. Angel and guilt. These seemed to be the vampire's bedfellows and Doyle was trying hard not to say anything. The PTB were looking after him, weren't they? That's why he was here, wasn't it?

Angel built up a little smirk in the corner of his mouth as he closed the gate and finished the routine. "Told you I would."

Doyle spun his legs off of the couch, offering Angel the space next to him. Angel sat, though he didn't seem tired from the low impact work-out. When he was tired, Angel liked to crash on the couch with a resounding thud, gasping as though he still needed air. Doyle was pretty sure that he didn't need to be witness to such a sexy event, but there he was.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you need to. Angel...."

"What?" The vampire's body language closed up defensively. "You put yourself in harm's way for me. You distracted a whole lot of pissed off looking men."

"You know that I was sent to help you, Angel. But sometimes I just wonder if you're not too hard on yourself."

"I like to be hard though," Angel purred with a sly grin as he placed his hand on Doyle's thigh, "and apparently, so do you...."

Angel's kiss started out slow, building brilliantly until Doyle's head was tilted all the way on the back of the couch, one arm slung over the end of the arm. His responses were dazed but delightful. His body arched when Angel moved his palm against Doyle's hard cock, the blanket falling away from Doyle's body.

"Not as cold as I expected...."

"What did you say?" Cordelia asked loudly, startling Doyle from his dream.

He jumped but then hissed when he realized his arm was still in that bloody cast, like it had been for the past week. And a fat load of help he was being since it had been broken by that Jizo cult priest. He had been real smooth in front of Angel, protecting the vampire that he wasn't having erotic day dreams about. Not at all.

"I said, the Bodhisattva statue was colder than I thought it would be. It was boiling hot in that room and the idol had been passed between those acolytes more than once."

"Is that significant?" Angel arched his eyebrows from where he was sitting at his desk, arms folded over his chest and legs kicked up. The eyeless statue sat square on the desk, waiting for delivery to Kate. The only problem was that Angel was reluctant to call her before they knew how it should be properly handled.

Cordelia sat perched in her chair, filing her nails into a deceptively good French manicure, as well as she could manage in the circumstances. "We can't know until somebody mans up."

Doyle took objection to that, along with the directional point of the nail file. "Well excuse me! Its not like I can just call my ex! She's probably on a dig somewhere and its not as though we left on the best terms."

Cordelia shook her head. Obviously, she was still stung that nobody had told her about this whole pro bono thing before and nobody but her really cared. "Whatever. If she's an expert in the body visit taha thingie statue, then she's our best bet. I really just want to get this out of the office."

Angel nodded. "Agreed. Not knowing the ill effects of handling the object," and this is where he looked hard at Doyle, "makes me leery of moving it yet."

"Hey!" Doyle retaliated sheepishly, "its not as though I was using the thing as a pillow! I just smuggled it out in my jacket. There wasn't that much contact."

Or maybe there had been, although Doyle couldn't tell a difference. A week passed and Doyle's arm was healed up nicely, thank you demon blood, to the point where he stood in front of the mirror in his apartment and was cutting the cast itself off so that he could give the arm a proper wash. It itched something fierce.

"Angel, mate, could you..." Doyle stopped when he realized he was doing it again.

He had been grateful to sleep in his own bed, but waking up to the empty, disheveled apartment had been less than ideal for him. The place seemed too big and too small at the same time. Outside noises that wouldn't have even registered before were now catastrophic events. He tore savagely at the cast on his arm, leaving bits of plaster beneath his fingers and headed to check the mail. Doyle had loved his little apartment for so long and now he hated even the sight of it.

Doyle was more enthused in that he had received something from his ex, Frankie, and he noticed that it was both regarding the jizo statue and that the return address stated that he must have caught her on the steppes near Pakistan. He remembered Pakistan and how dry it had been, how much he had enjoyed the solitude and the way her laughter had broken it....

Coming out of his reverie, Doyle headed to the office, glad that he didn't have to go back up and face his apartment. He wasn't much of a whistling man, but he felt grand when he was helpful. Being helpful helped to push bad thoughts away.

He wasn't wrong in thinking that Angel would still be asleep when he got there. He was probably the only person on the face of the earth that could catch Angel unawares, the only half-demon that was part of Angel's inner sanctum. Doyle approached Angel's bedroom slowly, moving swiftly on soft feet.

No one that Doyle knew of had seen Angel like this, so natural and vulnerable. The lines in his face were smoothed as though he had regressed in age a decade or so. His leg was slung over the edge of the bed, revealing a smooth marble column of calf that put any exercise infomercial to shame. Doyle wanted to reach out and touch the soft curl of Angel's fist, but resisted. He was already feeling as though he had seen the wizard behind the curtain and he was only just in the doorway.

Angel started at the sound of Doyle's cough. He sat up, focusing his entire body into that taut and aware frame that Doyle knew so well. Doyle was dismayed that Angel never allowed himself to be even momentarily disheveled.

"Doyle. I wasn't expecting to see you this early."

Angel looked trapped in his own bed, as though he were ashamed of what was under the covers. Doyle wanted to, but he knew it wasn't his place to pry. "Yeah, I apologize about that, but I got a letter from Frankie, and I thought the sooner we could get the jizo out of here would be all the better. May I?"

Angel nodded. "Come in."

Taking the letter, Doyle noticed the flinch when Angel realized that the blanket was dipping down and there was nothing that he could do about it. Angel's still chest was showing, pure white and smooth. The fact that he couldn't take pride in his own incredible sexiness made Doyle feel intermittent anger at the PTB, which he had to cover with fear and kowtowing.

Angel's lips remained still as his eyes scanned each word. Sometimes he would blink twice as he processed what he had been reading. It occurred to Doyle that he was just standing, hovering over Angel's possibly almost naked body, way too early in the "morning". Angel turned to Doyle when he finished.

"Can you give me about ten minutes to get ready? Help yourself to coffee if you'd like."

Doyle really didn't want to, or at the very least, wanted to casually watch Angel dress with a good shot of whiskey in both of them. But he didn't say anything, cursing to himself that he was nothing more than a coward. "Of course, boss," Doyle nodded to himself as he backed away to the main room.

When he arrived at the kitchen, Doyle took a moment at the cupboard. There were only three mugs in the entire place, and one belonged to each member of AI. It struck Doyle that Angel's world must be very small and lonely if he only counted knowing two among the six billion on Earth. He never talked about anyone else before unless something turned up that warranted it. Sometimes even Cordelia would agree and simply nod in sympathy as if they were sharing a thought.

Even the PTB had been minimal in their information sharing when they had assigned him to Angel. But Doyle didn't want to be out of the loop anymore. Indeed, he harnessed that anger so that he could surprise Angel. Fixing Angel's blood took a bit of anger and a lot of steeled courage to do. Those blood bags were more fragile than they looked.

The microwave dinged and Doyle had to take a moment, breathing in before reaching for his mug with his bad arm. The cast had done a number on his muscles and his hand shook badly while he took the coffee cup from the microwave and placed it on the counter. He had just set it down, cradled in his good palm, when Angel came in.

"You warmed my blood too?"

Doyle shrugged. "Figured while I was hanging about...so what did you learn about the jizo statue?"

Angel furrowed his brow as he sipped to keep the vampire face transition from being too dramatic. "You didn't read the letter when you received it?"

Doyle shook his head as he took a moment to lift his mug with his good arm. He had to show strength in front of Angel. "Nah. I figured you'd be able to tell what was important. Frankie always had that kind of trouble with me, which is why going on digs with her were something of a hassle."

"Seems that...."

"What?"

Angel finished draining his mug and pointed to Doyle while his face melted back into human mode. "That cast arm must still be pretty tender. You're favoring your non-dominant arm."

Doyle tried to shrug as if it was no big deal. "It'll be fine. Just gotta get used to using it again, don't I?"

Angel thought for a moment before walking out of the kitchen, beckoning for Doyle to follow. "Here, lets do a couple of tai chi moves. Its got low resistance for your muscles, followed by control. You might have spasms to begin with, but this will definitely help to loosen those atrophied ones up."

Doyle shook his head. "I don't do exercise Angel."

Angel stopped, his gaze turning serious. He put his hand on the top of the couch as though he were going to fall over. "I would think you'd want to have that arm back in shape before too long. If someone comes looking for the jizo and I need support...."

Doyle caught the stench of guilt in the air and it sickened him. He raised his hands in the air, well, as best he could. "Okay, okay. So, what do we do first, open the garage door and all that?"

Angel rolled his eyes as he began his forms slowly, talking Doyle through them as he worked out his own focus. Doyle had more trouble picking up the arm movements than Angel liked. In fact, he looked as though he were in outright pain when he even tried to bend too far toward one side.

"No, Doyle. That's not even close. Here, let me come over there and..."

Doyle wasn't sure he could handle Angel being that close. Plus, he was exhausted from trying not to yell out about how much the arm still hurt. "No thanks, boss. If its all the same to you..."

Angel wouldn't take no for an answer. He was already behind Doyle before the half-demon could finish his thought. "Don't be silly. We're almost done, I just want to see if I can..."

Angel was touching Doyle's exposed skin, causing Doyle to gasp. Not out of pain, just from the way that Angel was touching him. Angel was gentlemanly enough to pretend not to notice. He gently worked and rolled those painful muscles out until Doyle could at least bend his elbow with minimal pain.

"You know, you really should have read Frankie's letter, Doyle."

"What was so important..." Doyle stopped asking the question when he noticed Angel's fingers were moving from the elbow joint toward the buttons of his shirt.

"Sorry," Angel apologized as though he were not about to undress the other man, "its just that I need to work the inside of your arm. If you would rather have Cordy do it, we could wait for her to get here."

Doyle was rather mortified by the idea. "No, no. That's quite alright. Just, I'll do it."

The trouble was the working with such small buttons caused his bad arm to shake pretty bad. He could already feel the blush rising in his cheeks. But he didn't even have to ask before Angel covered Doyle's hands with his own, moving both down until the buttons were undone and four hands were resting just above Doyle's crotch.

Angel wasn't moving and for a few moments, Doyle was grateful for that. Any lower and Angel would have known what he was thinking. In a few moments, Angel did know exactly what Doyle was thinking. His hands moved slowly at first, questioning, and then quicker to pace with Doyle's shallow breathing.

"You really should have read what was in that letter," Angel purred.

"I was sure you were gonna tell me," Doyle moaned.

"Rather show you," Angel stated as he began to move his lips over Doyle's broken arm, kissing every bruise from the tips of his fingers all the way to his shoulder. Angel moved his hips away from Doyle's hand when they tried to find the vampire's cock, and Doyle had expected that. He was going to have to be insistent.

"I could lose my soul," Angel pouted.

Doyle shook his head. "Read the reinstated curse. Never said anything about mercy fucks."

Doyle felt himself turn into Angel's grasp. "Is that what you think you are? A mercy fuck? Doyle, you're a salvation fuck."

Doyle wasn't sure he would ever get a higher compliment than that, so he allowed Angel's hands to roam over his body and unbutton his pants while he leaned back against the couch. Angel's mouth engulfed itself in his hard, uncut member and Angel's fingers hit the base of the penis in just such a way that he kept Doyle from cumming the moment the two bodies met.

"I see we both need a hand."

"Oh god," was all the response that Doyle could mumble.

Angel purred in his throat as he teased Doyle's foreskin. Doyle's bad hand seemed to come to life under Angel's care, bringing itself to the back of Angel's neck. Doyle needed, wanted to move faster.

"Oh fuck, Angel."

Angel's lips left Doyle's cock with a twisted smile. "Maybe later."

Doyle's knees started to go weak. It was too early for this and he was too horny. Angel led Doyle to the bedroom where Doyle felt himself pushed gently onto the bed. The sheets were pure black silk, soft and surprisingly warm, as though that was where Angel stored all his heat.

Angel was again attacking his package, moving his tongue over the ridge in Doyle's balls. Doyle was vacillating between demon and man until Angel took charge, holding Doyle's cock firmly in his hand while he was human, forcing him to concentrate and stay that way.

"You've been so good to me Doyle. Happy to return the favor."

"You can return the favor by undressing," Doyle said with a squeak in his voice.

Angel's hand moved away from his cock. His face turned serious for a moment. "I shouldn't."

Doyle nodded. "Oh believe me, you should."

"You read the curse? Are you completely sure?"

Doyle sat up, noting that Angel was moving farther away and really hating that. His good hand reached out to Angel's shoulder. "I don't lie. Not to you."

Angel broke out into a grin, starting with his tank top, slipping it off. His sweat pants soon followed and his hard, uncut member was already starting to show veins in Doyle's hard hands. The were kneeling before each other, pumping hard cocks in foreign hands.

Angel pressed their bodies closer and Doyle received a kiss so hard, so needing, that it nearly knocked him backwards. He felt the soft pressure of the silk tangling beneath his body and could barely suppress a moan. At some point, Angel's fingers began traveling down until they were underneath Doyle's body and starting to push into erogenous pressure from Doyle's hole.

"What you thinking?" Doyle gasped between breathes.

"Thinking I want to fuck you. You ever had a cock inside of you?"

Doyle shook his head. "No...I mean, I've been with a bloke or two but I've...you should be the first."

Angel winced. "Not sure I'm up for the job. Might hurt a lot."

"Trust you, mate."

Angel moved so that he was hovering over Doyle's body. "I love when you call me mate."

"Fuck me, mate."

"Yes sir," Angel purred in delight.

Using his natural spit, Angel licked his fingers. He began with the first, moving it slowly until Doyle started to buck his hips back. Once they were three fingers in, Angel stopped. He hovered for a moment, causing Doyle to concentrate long enough to take in Angel's body, which was better than his own fertile imagination had produced in the past week.

His speech was wobbly in the throes of passion. "Please, mate. Please."

"Sure," Angel whispered slowly.

He began to spit into his own hand, polishing his cock and lubing Doyle's hole. Doyle tried not to squirm, but he was shaking and needed to cum badly. Angel took hold of his thighs on either side and slid up to where they were mere inches from each other. Angel's stiff member stood hard at the entrance of Doyle's hole.

The meeting of skin caused Doyle to buck upwards and Angel grabbed underneath Doyle to keep his body titled up just slightly. Each inch was full of pain and pleasure. The sound of squeezing and deep, slow movement caused both bodies to go stiff.

"So tight, Doyle."

"Shit, shit, fuck me."

"Trying," Angel gasped almost jokingly.

It seemed to take forever to get Angel all the way inside of Doyle. He rested a moment while there and the feeling was pure heaven for Doyle. His demon skin and human erogenous zones were feeding off the lust, causing him to pant like a dog in heat.

Angel began thrusting with a long boom of pleasure that transcended both bodies. Doyle pushed back as Angel thrusted again. His face scrunched, pain becoming pleasure and moving back again in waves. Having Angel so close, so unguarded. He was going to cum.

"Angel, I..."

Angel grabbed onto Doyle's cock as Doyle stretched his arms out over the bed. Angel continued to thrust while pumping his hand through his lover's cock. Angel's thighs were underneath Doyle's own thighs and the friction in warmth tilted Doyle's lust-filled mind over the edge.

He erupted, cum moving with Angel's thrusts in spurts, covering him from neck to belly button. He was tense since Angel was still inside him but the relaxation caused Angel to go in deeper. Angel tried pulling out with the next thrust without cumming but Doyle moved so that Angel was too deep to leave.

"You want it? You need it?"

Doyle nodded. "You're already there. Finish the job, mate."

Angel began to thrust wilder, harder. Now that Doyle was used to the feeling of riding cock, he went with it. It was starting to hurt from the friction but Angel was thrusting slower and slower, making the motions of gasping without really needing to.

Angel stopped, suspended in mid-thrust. Doyle bit down on his bottom lip, bucking hard and filling a rush of cum fill his hole.

Angel fell on top of Doyle's sticky body with a surprised gasp, his own cock now leaking cum all over the sheets. Doyle's own cock reacted to the feeling of Angel's body over it and Doyle found himself reaching down, jerking himself to cum a second time while Angel kissed him.

"God, you're so beautiful," Angel stated, now more relaxed than he could ever remember.

"I was just thinking the same thing. Maybe you should go and stop the elevator for the day."

"That would require me getting up."

Doyle found his hands intertwining with Angel's own. His bad arm seemed to be healing up nicely. "Fuck the world, then."

"I'd rather just have you."


End file.
